First, let me say that we all miss Director Donald Engen. A hero
in World War Two, Donald was no less a hero to this museum.

As one of the Regents of the Smithsonian, I know first-hand the
contribution Donald made. He understood our National Air and Space
Museum for what it truly is: a shrine to America's relentless spirit of
progress, and a monument to those who led us. He gave new energy to
this, the world's most visited museum, and put forth a bold vision for
its future. He will be missed.

Let us also remember your fallen colleague Pete Conrad, who many of
you helped lay to rest yesterday. On the second lunar landing, when he
became the third man to walk on the moon, he jumped from the landing
module to the surface -- and with his trademark sense of humor he
declared, "That may have been a small one for Neil, but that's a long
one for me."

And so it was for Pete -- from his training as an aeronautical
engineer, to his service in the Navy, to his time at NASA -- where he
served with uncommon distinction. Up until his passing, he was working
on new commercial ways to open the space frontier. We will remember his
humor, his energy, his love of country -- and the unparalleled service
he gave to us all.

Hundreds of years from now, when historians are chronicling the
history of the 20th Century, I believe they will conclude that one of
the most significant decisions we made, as a people, was to send a man
to the moon -- to expand the very limits of our horizon, and blaze new
paths of discovery.

It was President John F. Kennedy who taught us all to reach for the
moon and the stars. And I want to say, on behalf of everyone here
today, that our thoughts and prayers are with the Kennedy family at this
difficult time. For John Kennedy Jr. wore that mantle of possibility
and discovery -- the belief that we can reach a new horizon if we have
the courage to try.

The poet Antonio Machado has written: "there is no path; we create
the path as we walk." That is true of the people we honor today -- who
blazed a path farther than any we had known, and made President
Kennedy's vision a reality.

In hindsight, yours was an even more audacious journey than it once
seemed. Apollo 11's on-board computer had about one-twentieth the
storage power of an average floppy disk today -- and one thousand times
less active memory than the average digital organizer.

With those constraints, you embarked on a mission of half a million
miles -- a mission to a place that was always within our view but never
before within our reach. Even Michael Collins, who is with us today,
would later admit, "there are just too many things that can go wrong."
And yet, you succeeded.

For America, yours was also a journey of the human heart. 1969 was
a time of growing division in America. We were still reeling from the
race riots that followed the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.,
and then the assassination of Robert Kennedy which came so quickly on
its heels. The war in Vietnam -- a war I was about to see with my own
eyes -- was cleaving America apart.

But we came together, transfixed by the mission you undertook. As
Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, and Michael Collins sat atop a Saturn V
rocket that was taller than the Statue of Liberty, families and
communities came together to watch with pride and hope and fear.

We stayed transfixed for the duration of your journey. Later, we
would learn just how heroic that mission was. From mission control we
heard the words "we're go on that alarm," and only later found out that
there had been a computer overload. From you we heard the words "pretty
rocky area," and didn't realize that you had to struggle to avoid a
field of boulders -- and nearly exhausted your fuel in the process. And
in the calm language of the test pilot, we heard the words "picking up
some dust," but didn't realize that lunar dust had totally obscured your
visibility. And then came the graceful words: "Houston, Tranquility
Base here. The Eagle has landed."

And with your first step into the sea of tranquility, you brought
tranquility to us here at home. In that moment, we became a truly
United States, united in pride and gratitude.

Your mission taught us a great deal about the moon. But it taught
us even more about ourselves: what we could accomplish as a nation if we
set our hearts and minds to it.

So perhaps the greatest thanks we can offer is to continue to
create the path as we walk.

The 20th century will forever be remembered as the time when we put
a man on the moon. Together, we must work to ensure that the 21st
Century is the time when we reach even further into our solar system,
and beyond it; a time when we reap profound new insights into our own
world -- from the first light that illuminated the universe, to the
forces affecting our global environment in the present day.

I am deeply committed to an aggressive, forward-looking space
program -- a space program that dares to push the limits of the heavens.

That is why I am so proud that under Dan Goldin's leadership, we
have reformed and reinvented NASA -- so we can now develop spacecraft
faster, launch missions more quickly, and accelerate the pace of
discovery while giving the American people more for their money.

In the coming days, we will launch the new x-ray telescope Chandra
-- which will give astronomers a powerful new tool to see further into
the universe and, literally, back into time. And I am proud that it
will be launched on the first Space Shuttle ever to be commanded by a
woman -- Air Force Colonel Eileen Collins.

Later this year, as part of a series of Mars missions, we will make
tracks on Mars once again -- and move closer to answering the question
of whether life existed there.

Next year, astronauts will begin to occupy the International Space
Station -- a powerful symbol of what nations can do through peaceful
cooperation in space.

And we are working to nourish the next generation of space
explorers as well. Today, our Administration is announcing the
membership of a new National Commission on Mathematics and Science
Teaching for the 21st Century that will be chaired by John Glenn. It
will look at new ways to recruit, train, and support high-quality math
and science teachers - so our children and grandchildren can look
skyward with as much understanding as awe.

Through all these steps, we are putting within our reach what was
once only within our view. And we have you to thank for that.

You see, the Apollo 11 was just the beginning of the journey -- and
it is a journey of curiosity and discovery that must be never-ending.

So today, we present these three men with the Samuel Langley Medal,
to stand in equal stead with legends of flight like Wilbur and Orville
Wright, and Charles Lindbergh.

As much as any, you have opened up new horizons, and made real what
many could not dare to imagine.

President Kennedy once reminded us that "this country of the United
States was not built by those who waited and rested and wished to look
behind them. This country was conquered by those who moved forward --
and so will space."

"We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be
gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the
progress of all people."

Today, we do more than pay tribute to the first brave sailors of
space. We also resolve to keep moving forward -- for the knowledge that
can be ours, and for the progress that is promised, for all of mankind.

Now I am pleased to present Secretary Heyman, who will read the
citations as I present each of you with the Samuel Langley medal.